MacAlpine’s hand came up to intercept it. The golden fist slammed harmlessly into MacAlpine’s palm, stopped dead. And while everyone watched, MacAlpine closed his hand hard and crushed the serjeant’s hand inside his armour. He couldn’t break the golden strange matter, but he could destroy the hand inside it. We all heard the bones break and shatter. The Sarjeant grunted once. MacAlpine let go, and the Sarjeant fell back a step, nursing his injured hand to his chest. He didn’t cry out.
The Armourer looked at MacAlpine thoughtfully. “I wonder what a golden ax would do to his neck?”
“Don’t,” I said. “He really is protected. Sarjeant, have all the wounded been evacuated? Is there anyone else left in the castle?”
“All gone,” said the Sarjeant.
“Then let’s get the hell out of Schloss Shreck, and leave MacAlpine here. Sealed inside the Timeless Moment forever.”
“Ah,” said the Armourer. “We have a slight problem there. As I tried to tell you . . .”
I looked at him. “What?”
“When we smashed the teleport systems, we accidentally set off a self-destruct mechanism,” said the Armourer. “Designed to seal off the Timeless Moment so nothing could get in or out. One last dog-in-the-manger stratagem . . . We found the destruct mechanism, but its workings are protected by powerful shields. We can’t get at it. The best we can do is keep resetting the timer every sixty seconds. There’s a Drood doing that right now. The trouble is . . . the self-destruct mechanism is so powerful it’s affecting Alpha Red Alpha. Basically, if the destruct mechanism goes off, our machine will be destroyed, too. And Alpha Red Alpha takes a lot more than sixty seconds to fire up. We’d be stuck in here forever. Which means . . .”
“One of us has to stay here,” said the Sarjeant. “To keep resetting the timer until after the Hall has safely gone.”
Some days, the hits just keep on coming.
“I’ll stay,” the Sarjeant said. “I know my duty. My job is to protect the family.”
“No,” I said. “It has to be me.”
“Why?” said the Armourer. “Why does it always have to be you, Eddie?”
“Because I led us in here,” I said. “I know my duty. Anything for the family. Take me to the self-destruct mechanism, Uncle Jack. Sarjeant, get everyone else out of here.”
“Fair enough,” said the Sarjeant.
“No!” said MacAlpine. “You’re not going anywhere!”
He surged forward, his hands reaching for my throat. I whipped out the Merlin Glass, activated it and slapped it over MacAlpine. And the Glass sent him away.
“Where did you send him?” said the Sarjeant.
“Back to the cryogenic chambers,” I said. “To play with the other monsters.”
“The Glass!” said the Sarjeant. “You could wait till the last minute, then use it to transport you to the Hall just as we’re leaving!”
“No,” said the Armourer. “I’ve shut down the shields here, but the castle’s main protections still hold. They won’t let the Glass transfer anything out of the castle. I’m sorry, Eddie, if that’s what you were counting on. . . .”
“I wasn’t,” I said. “But we can use it to jump to the mechanism, can’t we?”
“Of course,” he said. “Take the family home, Sarjeant. Prepare Alpha Red Alpha. As soon as I return, we’re leaving.”
The Merlin Glass followed the Armourer’s instructions and delivered the two of us to a small back room full of strange old-fashioned equipment: great bulky stuff, with lots of vacuum tubes and heavy wiring. One large grey box was ticking down the seconds. The armoured Drood standing next to it hit the reset button, and the timer returned to counting down the minute. The Armourer gave the Drood his marching orders, and sent him back to the Sarjeant through the Glass. Which left him and me and the box.
“Don’t ask me what it is, or how it interferes with Alpha Red Alpha,” said the Armourer. “The people who worked here originally let their minds run in some pretty strange directions. I could spend months here taking things apart. . . . But we haven’t got months.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I know what to do. Time for you to go, Uncle Jack.”
He armoured down to show me his face. He looked like someone grieving at a funeral. “It isn’t fair, Eddie. You’ve done so much for the family. . . . I’m an old man. I should stay.”
“No,” I said immediately. “They need you to work Alpha Red Alpha. And besides, you’re far too valuable to the family. What would the Droods do without their Armourer? Someone has to do this. And I need to do it.”
“Why?”
“Penance,” I said. “And no, you don’t get to ask what for.”
“You were always my favourite nephew,” said the Armourer. “I don’t . . . I don’t know what to say to you, Eddie.”
“Say good-bye to Molly for me,” I said. “Make sure she knows how much I always loved her.”
“She knows,” said Uncle Jack. “Eddie . . .”
“Yes?” I hit the reset button.
“I have to take the Merlin Glass with me. It’s no use to you here, and it’s far too valuable to the family to leave behind.”
“Of course,” I said. “Molly will be able to use it to help Alpha Red Alpha get you home safely.”
I handed the Glass over. The Armourer took it reluctantly.
“It was the best toy you ever gave me, Uncle Jack,” I said.
He looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but couldn’t. So we shook hands, very formally.
“You did good, Eddie,” he said. “You’re a credit to the family. You will be remembered.”
“Then make sure they remember the real me,” I said.
The Armourer nodded quickly, activated the Merlin Glass, stepped through it and was gone. I finally got to see what that looked like, as an observer, and it was every bit as freaky and disturbing as people said it was. And I was left alone in Schloss Shreck. Castle Horror.
I pulled up a chair and sat down beside the stubbornly counting self-destruct mechanism. I wondered how I’d know when the Hall was gone. . . . Best give it an hour, and then . . . What we do in Heaven’s gaze matters most. And one time pays for all.
I sat in my chair, looking round the room. I didn’t armour down; its strength was all that was holding me together. I kept an eye on the descending countdown, making a little game out of how late I could leave it, and looked back over my life. Enjoying my triumphs, cataloguing my sins, regretting all the things I’d meant to do but never got round to doing. I wished I’d made a better fist of running the family, while I had the chance. Wished so many good Droods hadn’t died in action, following my plans. And then there were all the many things I’d meant to say to so many people, because you always think you’ll have more time. Molly and I never talked enough. Not about the things that really mattered. I’d always meant to marry her, eventually, but it never seemed to be quite the right moment. I hoped she’d understand why I had to do this. Probably not. She never did have much time for guilt or penance.
I wished I’d taken more time to talk with Uncle Jack about all the marvellous things he and Uncle James did. I could have talked with him about my parents . . . but I never did.
I thought about Philip MacAlpine. No doubt running screaming through the stone galleries, trying to find me and stop me before the Hall could leave the Timeless Moment. Fat chance. Would he die when the castle finally blew up, or would Satan’s little gift let him survive to drift endlessly in the silver void forever? I smiled, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a pleasant smile.
I kept hitting the reset, and the seconds kept on counting down.
The door slammed open, and Philip MacAlpine burst into the room. I stood up, keeping my place by the mechanism. He stood swaying before me, grinning broadly, his eyes blazing. He had something very like my Colt repeater in his hand, aimed right at my head.
“Get away from the machine, Eddie. If I’m going down, I’m taking all of you with me.”
“Sorry, Phil,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
